Friday, February 15, 2013

SOS from my Dad-Canada-Bonner's Ferry

My Dad basically flickered the light off and on a few times, the one that is over the dining room table.

I haven't seen his eyes in lighting like that of the other store, but in the dim light, they look worse now than they did the day I first saw he had been professionally tortured.

At the same time, someone was driving slowly around the neighborhood, with a heartbeat kind of thumping in the bass that anyone could hear.

This is being done while my family is being tortured to have problems to their hearts, by technology. It is also the exact same song and beat that was being played when I was in Bonners Ferry, ID, which is right next to the Canada border.

No one over here would know what was being played over there, when I went there in 2009. So for someone to bring that same thing over here, and drive around our neighborhood so we can hear it (this has been going on for a few weeks, since we've been tortured with technology to our hearts specifically), is copying what was done in Bonners Ferry.

There, I was being followed by this man in a car who was in his 20s and had a woman with him, also in her 20s. He "looked" Jewish, ethnicity-wise, but who knows in reality what his religion was. He was possibly Catholic as so many Jewish have intermarried they are more easily confused now. I only say this to try to define what they looked like. I don't know why they followed me around. It was them and about 3 cops and border patrol. The police there were seriously scary.

I had a bad feeling about Bonner's Ferry and the only reason that came to me was that possibly it was because it is so close to the Canadian border. It was 100% bad vibes. I have no doubt that some nice people live there, but it was one of the most oppressed-feeling places I went and I felt murder there. I mean, there was murder in the air and in the ground. People getting murdered who were good people, like my Grandpa Garrett.

Whatever moved in over there, is like the Green Thing from a Sci-Fi movie. It is BAD news.

My Grandpa Garrett was repeatedly targeted there, to have a heart attack and then he died of one. Put that into context with cops, border patrol, and 20-something kids following me around with thumping heart music, who all looked bad. Cops looked bad, BP was bad, everyone there in authority is bad.

I was just as scared there, in Bonner's Ferry, as I was the one time I got lost and ended up in Orange County, New Jersey. First, it was no big deal. I took the wrong exit. Okay, no big deal. Then all of a sudden, this "wrong exit" into Orange County got scarier. I couldn't find the road to take the exit back out, so I was driving down these roads and it was suddenly very high prison-style chainlink fences all around, warehouses, and total industrial places. All the stores had iron bars on windows and all the houses. When I went to Bonner's Ferry, it looked so green and pretty and peaceful and I had good memories as a kid so I thought it was maybe the same, or close to the same. No, it was not. The Green Thing had moved in, with demons. That is the energy that was there.

It was this quiet, shh-shh-town, with a morbid heavy fog over it and I realized, this has something to do with Canada too, or someone from the U.S. Someone has been corrupting that area for awhile.

It's no wonder then, that next, it was my Uncle Howard who went to the Bonner's Ferry hospital and couldn't get back out. He went there, with head pain and other pain. By that time, they figured (the murderers) they could put the blame on "agent orange". He went to the hospital and he turned around to leave. I believe he saw someone or knew something bad was about to happen. He tried to get out and he fell down on site, targeted to the head.

Bonner's Ferry is the location for deaths of my Grandpa Garrett and Uncle Howard. It is also where a lot of very scary, seriously, seriously "all you have to do is get in the car" cops and border patrol that I fully believed, for the 1st time in my life, would literally take me out to the woods, shoot me, and chop me into small pieces. It was a border patrol man who gave me that feeling, I think, or a county guy, in a jeep. It wasn't a patrol car.

I'm not exaggerating. There are definitely a few cops that have scared me. Some, shocked me to death. Some mocked me and I knew they knew about torture of my son--for some reason, even though they were that bad, I didn't have this feeling they were about to attempt to kill me in the woods. Bonner's Ferry? I had that feeling. I came face-to-face with the possibility of death and it was someone in a position of "authority". It was this one, that I believed, would have killed me. I literally saw the intent in his eyes. The others, were corrupt and dirty. But I really did know that I need to back away carefully and slowly, and run, get into a public place with light, and hide from him. Then I was followed by more police.

How would someone like that, know anything about me? or have any desire to do something bad to me? They already knew who I was. Bob Garrett Sr.'s grand-daughter, but I didn't know them personally. They acted like I was there, "in on something" or on their "turf" or as if I was a threat to whatever weird business they had going on there.

It was nothing like what I remember. I do recall being told, "Don't go down that road" with regard to a private driveway and I never did. But the rest, I don't remember anything bad. Mostly we stayed on his own private property.

I thought there were some nice people there, and a few tried to clue me in a little, maybe. But it was very depressing and I know something bad has been going on. The U.S. can kill from a distance, but I still felt a local energy about the area.

It was actually, on a scale, scarier than Orange County, New Jersey. I was sort of off-guard and worried when I ended up in a "hood" or industrial area, not having been around one before, but this other thing was like everything looks fine from the outside and yet the energy is throbbing with murder. I have even lived on the same street that a man got shot, and I was close enough to hear the shots, and I still walked that sidewalk and didn't feel scared.

I felt scared in Bonner's Ferry.

The one man was either U.S. border patrol or Canadian. He was in Bonner's Ferry, but it's a partly-shared zone I think. Then there were other kinds of cops. Three different kinds followed me around. I was even stopped and harassed, for no reason at all. One of them, making their entire point to drive a police jeep with plates in the front that didn't match the plates in the back. So I got the ID number across the bumper instead.

It was actually a similiar feeling as I had in Blaine. I didn't feel scared in Blaine, but it was the same shh-and-depressing heavy fog feeling over the area. Whatever is going on in Blaine is secretive, but it must be slightly more out in the open.

My Grandpa Garrett even has a cabin in Bonners, and I would have thought I'd feel safe visiting, but not from the energy I picked up on there.

Some group there has been sighting for the murders of family members.

I just looked at the wiki for Bonner's Ferry history, and it's only a small part I'm sure, but I didn't know that an Indian (Native American) tribe declared War on The United States of America. So when my Grandpa Garrett gave me cards with Native American women on them, wearing their tribal dress and moccasins and headdress and with feathers and nature around them, he was signaling to me that I had a right to declare War Against The United States of America. I didn't know it then. I just wondered why he chose that kind of card.

Now I know. He knew I was abused and tortured by the U.S. and that I have a claim over them.

I not only have a claim against the U.S., I have one against Canada.

Her declaration of war to force them to pay a toll and eventually they deeded the tribe 12.5 acres (the acreage number is found on Boise State site, in contrast with wiki's 10.5). The U.S. was forced to make a concession.

So basically, all of the crimes against me, have been done to beat a dead man's body. Canadian border patrol made a point of trying to have me sign a false confession in Penticton and dishonored my right to a hearing for political asylum. Then they forced me to sign a false statement. The only reason they did this, was to make a political point for themselves. Same thing with the U.S. So then when I got to the UN, I was told the U.S. didn't sign the respective treaty so they were able to wiggle out of accountability for torture and terrorist acts against their own citizens, before the UN.

I hope the Pope Benedict chose to resign out of conscience that he could not continue to lead and be an expert witness and testify on behalf and behalf of my son as to our torture. Wouldn't that be the day.

So I then went after Canada, because they did sign it, and they did torture us and commit crimes against humanity. I sent it hastily so I've been thinking about how to edit it and send it in better form. But believe me, Canada is guilty as sin. Maybe they didn't torture as much as the U.S., that is definitely true, but we weren't there long either.

I told my parents tonight, when they asked why I was considering being a gestational surrogate, and asked them to pray for me, they said they wouldn't. I said, "You don't have any other options. It's pray for me about being a surrogate, or I die."

The U.S. has not quit their torture. And I have no doubt I will die if I am held hostage here longer. I believe my parents are in danger and my son as well, but as for me, the U.S. most recently went after my heart.

They have tried to kill me for decades, by "let's make it look like an accident" methods. Now they don't care. Now they think they only have to blame mental illness or "health" problems. They torture and create health problems, like the sudden massive brain hemmorhage of my Uncle Jay. The excuse for him, "He's old".

Right. And a bunch of people sent threatening email to my parents first, about what the fate of Jay was going to be.

It was premeditated murder.

The U.S. is allowing criminal groups that are paid by the U.S., to murder family members and make it look like accidents or "they're just old" or "it's agent orange". Whatever weakness or flaw they imagine they can find or use, they are using. With torturing me, for over 10 years, it was "she's just having extreme migraine because it's around her time of menstrual period."

All of it was a lie.

For 10 years, I had suffered, thinking I had some strange "new" health problem that had nothing to do with my health. I was being tortured. Then when they needed to find an excuse for it, to hide it under a cover, they used my menstrual cycle to try to match it up. "Oh it's just premenstrual migraine". First they coordinated migraine to affect my work and college, and then they wanted it to be hidden with a natural appearing pattern. So next, when I had lawsuits, they coordinated the hearings around the date of believed periods, which was when I was then being targeted.

James River, my son, died because of "ectopic twin pregnancy" is what a doctor later tried to use as an excuse. It was a lie to cover for murder and the use of an MRI machine to facilitate that murder. He was tortured first, and then murdered.

Gannon died from beta rays.

Madonna died when they were told it was too early for her to be born and then something was done and when she was born, she was dead.

So the U.S. pattern has been to kill a newborn from every generation, torture the others throughout their lives, and prematurely kill off the rest when they are deemed "old" and it's less likely to be noticed.

These are staggering numbers. For my family, it is staggering.

So I would like to know who else has the same story, if there are others whose generational histories are falling into the same pattern.

Oh yeah, and I started to feel scared around Alvaro. Must've been the Middletons energy.

About Me

this is a blog about my life and thoughts on: clergy abuse (Mt. Angel Abbey); defamation by press (Willamette Week); freedom of speech; abuse of government powers; religion, and other social issues; and the art & humor in routine life; and is dedicated to my son